Author's Note:
Holy Macaroni! Thirteen reviews! Woah, still unbelievable! So, a huge, massive thank you to: RomanogerLaucifer; supesfan18; Sportsfan64; Amy Hamato; princess2015; Guest; Sanctuaria; Baibe; Nat; Fangirl of Fitness; Maniac at Midnight; Hero Pilot; NataliaRussiaA.
Without any ado; here's the next chapter :D
Natasha continued to walk until she was outside of the building as the phone rang. Finally, after five rings, someone answered.
"Hey, Nat!" Clint answered brightly.
Natasha groaned. "Not you! Put Laura on." She demanded.
Clint made an undignified noise and handed the phone to his wife, grumbling.
"Hey, Nat- everything okay?" Laura asked kindly, seeming a lot more patient than Clint.
"No." She answered as she wandered away from the base, needing to distance herself in an attempt at privacy. "I'm confused; I need some advice."
"Give me a second and then you'll have my full atten-"
"Noooo!" Clint complained in the background.
"My full attention," Laura stated.
Natasha smirked at obviously interrupting the two of them. She heard some shuffling- what she presumed would be Laura getting dressed.
"Okay, advice for what?"
She took a breath. "Relationships. What does that mean now? He doesn't want to make out or anything, and I really don't know what he wants."
"Relationship with…?"
"Steve."
"Right." Laura muttered. "What exactly are you confused about?" She asked.
Natasha knew she had to clarify, but, if she were honest with herself, she didn't know what she was confused about. She allowed herself a few seconds to think before replying, "What's the difference between being friends with somebody and being in a relationship-apart from the obvious 'it's not appropriate to make out and have sex if you're not in a relationship' part?"
There was silence over the phone for a few seconds before Laura spoke with confidence. "A relationship is just an extension of a friendship. It's the next level on the ladder. Acquaintances, friends, best friends, dating, in love, engaged, married."
"In that order?" Natasha asked.
"Usually. But it's not uncommon to skip some stages or be at different stages… apart from the marriage part, of course. That would happen at the same time."
"What about the being engaged part?" Natasha inquired- not that she was anywhere near that stage; in fact, that hadn't even entered her mind.
"Some people say that when the man buys the ring, he is committed to being engaged and so he's already entered that stage."
"I don't think you're helping me, Laura… maybe I'll have Clint back," Natasha decided.
Laura laughed. "There we go. That's what a relationship is like. I know you and Clint aren't romantically involved-just remember from when you first met to getting to this stage. How did you do that?"
"It just happened. We were partners…"
"Then let it happen. Talk to him, share stories about your past, spend time together. Do what you usually would do- just this time, do it together." Laura told her before throwing some more advice at her. "Don't stress the labels too much."
"I already agreed to 'officially date' him, so it's too late," Natasha muttered sarcastically.
Laura laughed again and Natasha tried to work out what she'd said to get such a reaction. "Don't stress it, now. Yes, you've agreed to date him, but don't make too much effort about using it in a sentence. If he wants to talk about it, he'll bring it up- just act normal."
"Are you kidding? Just act normal? That's your advice?" Natasha questioned. "Put Clint on, please."
"Super-spies are so hard to please."
"Well, you do walk out of the bedroom halfway through sex," Natasha commented casually, a smirk playing at her lips at the thought of Clint being denied sex.
"We weren't mid-way… we…" Laura drifted off and there was a second of silence. "She wants you."
"Hello," Clint greeted happily as he accepted the phone. "I knew it was me you really wanted."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to you another time. Give the kids a hug and kiss from me."
"Sure thing. Don't forget to rest."
"You too; you're getting old," Natasha replied before hanging up; she couldn't work out if that had helped or not. She thought over Laura's words, which sounded an awful lot like, 'just continue being friends but call it a relationship'- did that even make sense? Why couldn't Steve just want to have sex? She was good at that. She let out a frustrated groan before walking around the compound, not bothering to jog or run. She eventually headed back inside.
Steve was jogging around the compound for some extra and well-needed exercise; he had been itching to run for a few hours and was only now getting the chance to do it. The sun had finally risen, he had an hour before training, and he had just figured out the music player Stark had introduced him to so he could listen to music as he went. He came to a stop when a cushion hit his head, coming from the direction of the base.
"What the-?" He exclaimed, taking out an earbud and turning to face whoever had thrown the cushion. "Why did you do that?"
Natasha shrugged innocently. "I want to talk. Are you free now?" She called from the window she was leaning out of.
He paused the song he'd been listening to and groaned. "Really? Right now? I was just going to- ah, nevermind. I'll be up in a second." He started trudging to the door.
"If you're busy, we can talk another time," Natasha offered as she intently watched him.
He raised his arm in surrender as he continued walking. "Forget it- too late now. You pulled me out of the zone."
She disappeared back into her room.
When Steve got there, she was casually dressed with her hair uncharacteristically up in a ponytail. She let him in and sat down on the couch. "Nice run?"
He plopped down in a nearby chair and let out a large exhale. "Yeah- all three minutes of it." He chuckled before leaning forward. "What did you want to talk about?" Had he done something wrong? Was she having regrets? Was she going to schedule more training for Wanda? She mentioned before how her training kept getting interrupted.
Natasha slipped her phone out and looked at the screen before giving him her attention. "What is your earliest childhood memory?"
Steve did a double-take at the unexpected question. "Wait, what? Why are you asking?"
"To talk. I can start," Natasha decided and continued without giving him a chance to reply. "My earliest memory is from… when I was about eleven, I think. I was sparring with another girl and I knew she had lost a match earlier, and that would mean serious consequences. So I let her win, and she had me by the neck- the coach gave her the go-ahead to snap it. I didn't want to die, so I snapped hers five seconds later. Your turn."
He blinked. "I- My earliest memory would be…" He sorted through them all in his mind. "I think it would be playing ball with one of my friends when I was… six? Yeah, six. I remember he hit the ball right into someone's window, and we ran for almost four blocks, we were so scared!" He smiled a bit at the happy memory.
Natasha smiled. "That's sweet. Was that with Bucky?"
"No, I met Bucky a few weeks after that, actually. I think this kid's name was Frederick."
Natasha nodded. "That sounds nice." She glanced at her phone again. "Who was your first kiss?"
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Um- technically it would have been Nancy Davis, in kindergarten- and I only know that much because my mother teased me about it for years. What about… What about you?" Where was this going?
She looked confused for a split second. "My first kiss… I don't know." She looked back at her phone and scrolled down. "What are your ambitions in life?"
"Easy- to save the world and continue Captain America-ing. It's kind of a career." He answered immediately; it appeared she was going to ask him a series of questions, and he had no clue why- but what's the harm in answering them anyway?
Natasha scoffed. "Same… or, at least, to just stay alive. What would you define as cheating?"
"Cheating at what?" Steve asked, confused.
"Relationship cheating… so if I kissed somebody else, would you consider that as cheating? Or if I touched their arm?" Natasha clarified.
Oh. "Well, I like to think I'm not a possessive person when it comes to relationships, so touching someone's arm is fine. Kissing? Well, I understand that, sometimes, in your super-spying, you're required to go undercover as a girlfriend or to flirt- I guess it's okay as long as you're not kissing them with the intent to actually have a romantic bond with them or something. As long as it's not outside of something that you have to do." He explained, though internally he was slightly suspicious. "Why? Are you seeing someone else?"
"No. I presumed when you wanted a relationship that it would be exclusive. So you're the only person I'm dating right now," Natasha answered. "And, in regards to cheating, I don't want you flirting or kissing or sleeping with anybody else."
He offered a smile. "I wouldn't dream of it." It was sincere, and he hoped she knew that.
"Good," Natasha replied genuinely as she smiled at him. She looked back down at the phone, smirking. "You wouldn't believe how many questions there are about different levels of sexual activity."
"That's- uh, that's lovely…" He muttered sarcastically. It seemed like she had a daily quota for how many times she needed to make him uncomfortable.
"I'm not asking them, am I?" She pointed out. "If you're having a bad day, would you want me to leave you alone or spend time with you and cheer you up?"
That one brightened his mood in and of itself, just thinking about the obvious answer. "Well, I hate feeling bad, so I'd love to be cheered up. I mean, well, that time with P-" He paused. "Unless someone's died, I would really appreciate your company." He purposely avoided discussing the death of his old girlfriend- it still hurt.
"So, if Bucky died, you'd want me to leave you alone?" Natasha bluntly asked for clarification.
Steve didn't like thinking about his best friend dying at all, but answered the question anyway- she deserved to know. "I think that, for the first few days, I'd want to be left alone to deal with things on my own- but after that, yes, some cheering up would be most appreciated."
"Understood," Natasha confirmed. She looked at her phone, once again, before looking back at him. "Do you have question you'd like to ask?"
He thought long and hard over that one- there were a lot, but not many of them seemed that important. "Yes, uh- what's your opinion on marriage? Not to sound pressuring or anything- just for future reference, should I need to know this." He hurried to add.
"I'm not against marriage- it's a big commitment, but I'm not against it."
Internally he grinned widely- that was something he liked to hear. Trying not to sound too overly affected by her answer, he asked hurriedly, "Did you get a real education- grade school, high school, college? So far I've only heard of a super-secret spy place, so I have no idea how you were taught."
Natasha put her phone to the side. "I… Everything I know… I don't remember anything before the Red Room. I never went to a proper school; I was taught what normal children were taught- I think. Never went to college. My childhood was about the… super-secret-spy stuff." She answered honestly, looking directly at him.
Steve wondered what exactly this 'Red Room' was; he'd heard her mention it several times, but by the way she spoke of it, he got the feeling that asking about it was opening old wounds- so he swallowed his curiosity and thought of a different question. "Do you play any instruments? I used to play a mean trumpet back in my school days." He winced as he unintentionally brought up the topic of education again.
She shook her head. "No. I've never played an instrument." She answered, narrowing her eyes. "Just ask what you want to."
Crap! Was she a mind-reader? It would explain so much. "Oh- sorry, um… What's the Red Room?" He asked hesitantly.
"The Red Room is…" Natasha paused, obviously thinking. "It's an organisation that trains young children to become assassins- preparing them to work in the KGB when they are old enough whilst working with the kabal and other private organisations."
"... And you were one of those children." Steve realized. His mood darkened as he could only imagine what- besides the grotesque and cruel things she had already told him about- she had gone through.
"Yes, one of the only to complete my training; they have a small graduation rate," Natasha answered softly.
"I can't- I'm sorry you had to go through that, Natasha. A woman like you deserves so much better than that."
Natasha shrugged. "It's fine. It wasn't that bad… what schools did you go to?"
At the abrupt change of subject, he had to take a moment to really think about the question he'd been asked. "Oh, mostly private schools- I'm pretty sure they're all shut down by now."
"Probably," She agreed. "If you thought I was making a bad decision, would you tell me? Even if you knew I didn't want you to tell me?"
That one was easy. "Of course I'd tell you- what kind of person would I be if I let you make a bad decision without at least calling your attention to it? In our line of work, bad decisions could get you killed."
"And if I did it anyway, would you be mad at me?" She asked as a follow-up question.
"Well, it depends on the situation- if you do what you believe is right, despite it being a bad decision, I won't be mad, per-se, more worried than anything. Everyone makes mistakes and I can't fault you for that."
"That's an interesting reply," Natasha commented. "Your turn to ask a question, I believe."
"Okay, how about this: is red your natural hair colour?" He asked off the top of his head. The answer didn't impact him that much.
A small smirk appeared on her lips. "Yes, red is my natural hair colour." Natasha shifted in her seat, leaning forward slightly. "Have you ever dreamt about me?"
He had been somewhat prepared for the next uncomfortable thing she would say, and so he replied, with enough smoothness to surprise even himself, "Yes, actually- we were on this deserted island, it was a beautiful evening, there was a totally romantic sunset," He described, before cracking the joke he'd thought up and was quite proud of, "and we were defeating these giant starfish monsters. It was a glorious battle, too." Man, making misleading comments was fun!
"You have really weird dreams," Natasha commented seriously.
"Quite true," He agreed. "What about you, Miss Mind-Always-In-The-Gutter? Ever dreamt about me?" He waggled his eyebrows before breaking into a fit of laughter.
"Just sex dreams. Want me to tell you about them?" Natasha answered instantly, no hesitation in her response.
He swore he almost choked on his own spit. "No." He replied just as quickly. "What's your favourite colour?" He asked, desperately trying to change the topic.
Natasha hesitated- visibly hesitated. "Favourite colour? I don't have one."
"Oh, come on! Everyone has one, whether they're aware of it or not! What colours do you generally find yourself drawn to?"
She shrugged. "Purple? Green?"
He nodded, satisfied. "Good! Those are great colours. Mine are red, white, and blue." As if it wasn't obvious.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "How creative."
He shrugged. It was then that he noticed her scratch a bit at the bandages wrapped around her torso, bringing another question to mind. "Natasha- what's the worst injury you've ever received?"
She opened her mouth to answer his question when she was interrupted by her phone ringing; she picked it up. "Romanoff... Copy that." She moved the phone away from her mouth. "It's Cooper. You go back to jogging- we can continue this later."
He sighed and nodded, standing up and stretching. "Alright, alright. See you later." He made his way out, shutting the door behind himself.
Thank you for reading! I was going to post this chapter tomorrow, but couldn't stop myself :D